We Lie Together

We lie together - ( First 10 pages)

By

Adam Shaw

1.INT. TEAROOM. DAY.

A WOMAN puts a non-filtered ‘Senior Service’ cigarette to her lips. The thumb of her right hand is twisted and scarred at the knuckle, showing it has once been badly broken. She lifts a silver lighter up to the end of the cigarette but the lighter fails to ignite. Golden sparks flash in the dimly lit room.

The WOMAN sits by herself in the sparsely occupied tearoom. She is about thirty-years-old, has dark shoulder length hair tied in a simple ponytail and wears a plain grey suit appropriate for office work. A window behind her looks out to a choppy sea.

A caption reads:
Bournemouth. January, 1953.

She takes a sip from a china teacup.

MAN (O S.)

Can I help?

The WOMAN turns and looks at the MAN. He wears a neat, charcoal grey, double-breasted suit, with a handkerchief in the breast pocket. His light hair is cut closely on the back and sides, with the top Brylcreamed and combed neatly back. A thin, neat moustache completes the slightly worn, leading man, image. He speaks with a fifties middle-class accent that has a touch of ex-RAF swagger.

The MAN opens a book of matches and lights a match, all with one hand. The WOMAN grins at the cheesy trick, then leans forward, holds his wrist and sparks up her cigarette. She nods at the matches.

WOMAN:

That’s an impressive trick.

The WOMAN’S accent, though diluted, still shows its East London origins. The MAN smiles as he blpws out the match.

MAN:

Thank you.

WOMAN:

It’s nice to see a chap putting the dark winter nights to good use learning a skill.

MAN:

Well, one ought to have a party piece, don’t you think?

WOMAN:

Mmn. I daresay. 

The MAN smiles again and stands still without speaking for a moment The WOMAN takes a draw on her cigarette then indicates the seat opposite her with a polite smile.

WOMAN:

Please...

MAN:

That’s very kind.

He sits then takes his own non-filtered cigarette from a silver case. After tapping his cigarette on the case he lights it, using his party piece.

MILES:

Actually, we have met briefly before.

WOMAN:

Really?

MAN:

You’ve probably wiped it from your memory. It was a mind-numbingly tedious affair at ‘The Palm Court’. Alec Shipley introduced us. (beat) Miss (beat, unsure) Nash?

The WOMAN smiles and holds out her hand, which the MAN takes and gently shakes.

WOMAN:

Ruth.

MAN:

Miles Driscoll.

(Pause. MILES looks at RUTH, questioningly.)

As we have met before, with all the proper formalities in place, I wonder... if it’s not terribly presumptuous... whether I might ask if you’d be available for dinner later?

RUTH looks back at MILES with a cool expression that, almost imperceptibly, shifts to an enigmatic smile.

2.EXT. BEACH. NIGHT.

—111 7'""

Black waves roll in against a moonlit beach. 

RUTH’S VOICE

When I was small I had a clear idea in my head of what I wanted from life. It was a little thing that could be summarised simply.... (beat) What I wanted was not to be poor.

3.INT. MILES’ FLAT. NIGHT.

MILES’ body presses RUTH against the back of a leather armchair. He kisses RUTH frenetically on the mouth and neck and paws roughly at her breasts.

RUTH’S VOICE

(ContJ

You might find it hard to believe, but never for a single moment did it occur to me that I might want love, (beat) Love to me was something that happened in the pictures... in black and white, with slushy music in the background. After it’d finished you went back out to the real world.

MILES kneels in front of RUTH.

RUTH’S VOICE

No... (beat)... to not be poor, that’d do the trick... Everything else was window dressing...

He undoes the zip on the side of RUTH’S skirt.

Fade out / Fade in... MILES lies on top of RUTH, on a sofa. They are both semi-clothed and dishevelled. He leans on his arms and pushes his pelvis between her stockinged legs in an uneven rhythm.

RUTH’S VOICE

The thing is, when you’re a kid you don’t realise, that the only thing in life that you’ll ever know for certain is that, basically, you know nothing.

RUTH stares up at him, coolly but breathless. MILES arms give way as he slumps down against her. He breathes hard and grunts the odd ‘God’ as he fucks her.

RUTH’S VOICE

You don’t know that anything, at any moment, can drop right out of the clear blue nowhere, knock you on the chump, and take over your life

RUTH’S face is expressionless as she holds tightly onto MILES’ neck and closes her eyes. The image slowly dissolves to... 

4.EXT. OPEN AIR SWIMMING POOL. DAY.

RUTH aged seventeen. Her long, dark hair moves through the water.

RUTH’S VOICE

There’s a random meeting, and nothing is the same again. And I mean no bloody thing. Cos suddenly there’s this thing called love...

As the dissolve ends a caption reads: East London. May, 1940.

RUTH’S VOICE

...but it was the type that happens in colour and any background music you have to whistle yourself.

Dappled sunlight reflects off the water around RUTH, as she moves languidly through the pool. Her broken thumb pushes through the water. The scarring is newer and more pronounced.

A sign says we are in, Manor Park Lido, property of London County Council Jt is a bright summer’s day and the Lido is full of young working class Londoners’, either swimming or sitting by the pool.

Every other stroke RUTH’S head comes up and she glimpses...

... a lad wearing just khaki shorts, sitting on the edge of the pool, watching hen He is seventeen, skinny and has dark hair. His name is PATRICK ROBSON.

RUTH pushes herself up from the side of the pool. Her one-piece costume clings to her undernourished body as she sits, by a wall, on a small, faded, stripped towel. She picks up a book with a red hardback cover, ‘Let the People Sing’ by J.B. Priestly, and starts to read.

As RUTH reads, her eyes slip off the text at the end of the book to glimpse PATRICK, who slides into the pool, going straight under the water. He comes up about halfway across, next to some kids who are trying to sit in a large rubber inner-tube. He slowly wades on.

YOUNG MAN’S VOICE

(Strong London accent)

I’ve read that book.

The sun-silhouetted figure of PATRICK looks down at RUTH, who shields her eyes, as she looks up at him. After a moment, RUTH shrugs and speaks. Her accent is a lot stronger at seventeen.

RUTH:

So... D’you want a prize or somethin’ ? 

RUTH looks at PATRICK, standing there awkwardly, then turns back to her book. After a moment of hesitation, PATRICK crouches next to her and watches as she reads. RUTH stares at the book but is obviously conscious of his gaze. PATRICK bounces nervously on his haunches and pulls his wet hair back with his hand.

PATRICK:

Bleedin’ baking in’ it I’m done like a kipper.

(PATRICK waits a moment then tries again.) How d’you get the busted thumb?

RUTH doesn’t answer right away. She continues looking at her book.

RUTH:

Somebody stamped on it.

PATRICK:

(Genuinely alarmed) Bloody ‘ell! (beat) What beggar did that?

RUTH shrugs and continues looking at her book. PATRICK looks at the ground. They say nothing for a while then RUTH looks up.

RUTH:

Me uncle... (beat) trod on m’ thumb.

PATRICK:

Why’d ‘e do that?

RUTH thinks for a moment.

RUTH:

I think he said he wanted to teach me a lesson.

PATRICK:

And did he?

RUTH:

Yeah, he did. (beat) But not the one he intended.

PATRICK looks at RUTH, trying to be cool but unable to hide his fascination. RUTH looks at PATRICK then back at her book.

5.INT. MILES’ FLAT. BEDROOM. 1953. DAY.

Morning. In bed, RUTH’S bleary eyes open. Her hair is ruffled and her make up, smudged. RUTH’S eyes focus on MILES, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking. MILES wears just a pair of grey trousers with the braces hanging down.

RUTH pulls the sheet over herself and looks at a bedside clock, which shows ten to eight. She wearily closes her eyes for a moment.

RUTH:

A bit early for a Saturday, isn’t it?

MILES turns towards her.

MILES:

Thing’s to do... I only lay in on workdays.

(He smiles at her and pushes a strand of hair back from her eyes4

You need a ciggie, old love. Clear the noggin.

RUTH smiles back through a yawn.

RUTH:

No ta.

As MILES gets up he indicates a man’s silk dressing gown, which hangs on 2 hook on the door.

MLLES:

When you’re fixed, put that on and scoot next door. I’ll rustle us up some scoff.

RUTH nods and watches MILES leave the room. She then Lies back down and stares thoughtfully at the ceiling as she bites a fingernail.

6.INT. MILES’FLAT. LIVING ROOM. 1953. DAY.

RUTH enters wearing MILES’ dressing gown and sits in a leather armchair. A bay window looks out onto the English Channel. The room is large and light and has an uncluttered, affluent, modern feel. MILES can be seen moving about in the kitchen, next door.

RUTH idly opens a cigarette box on a teak coffee table in front of her. She finds it full of different coloured cigarettes with gold filters.

MILES enters holding a tray, with teapot, cups and toast, on it.

RUTH:

A man that cooks... how marvellous.

MILES:

Don’t get too excited. It’s only toast.

MILES puts the tray down then sets out the plates, pours the tea etc. 

RUTH:

You’re not a chef, then?

MILES:

God, no. I’m in packaging... cardboard boxes.

(beat) We make them... or more precisely, the chaps and chapettes make them; while I sit in my office numbing the old caboose.

RUTH:

Sounds fascinating.

MILES:

Mmn, well... it isn’t.

RUTH watches MILES pour out the tea.

RUTH:

Perhaps you ought to throw it up. If it’s not you.

MILES:

Oh, I couldn’t possibly. It’s the old man’s firm.

Expectations and all that, ructions at the homestead, mother in tears, you know the sort of thing.

RUTH grins to herself as MILES sits. They proceed with the breakfast.

MILES:

What do you do for readies?

RUTH, holding a piece of buttered toast, stares ahead blankly for a moment before looking up.

RUTH:

Secretary.

7.EXT. ALLEY. 1940. NIGHT.

PATRICK and his pal GIL run breathlessly down the dark alley. Printed scarves cover their faces. GIL is PATRICK’S age but is taller than him. They both wear shabby dark suits with worn open necked shirts.

The lads look around nervously and, realising they are alone, slow down and stop. After they have removed their scarves, PATRICK leans forwards and dry heaves. He recovers slightly. 

PATRICK:

Jesus Christ!

(More deep breaths as he regains composure.) The place was s’posed to be empty. Mow’d they twig?

GIL:

(Breathlessly)

What ami... a bleedin’ mind reader?

They are silent for a moment as they continue to catch their breath. PATRICK looks up.

PATRICK:

Damnit, Gil. What about Albert?

GIL is silent as he looks back. They stare at each other fearfully.

PATRICK:

D’you think they’ll call the Bobbies?

GIL thinks for a moment then gives an ominous shake of the head.

GIL:

No.

They look grimly at one another for a moment then they rise and walk off. PATRICK crosses himself as he goes.

8.INT, ROSE AND CROWN PUB. 1940. DAY.

Sun illuminates the dusty atmosphere of the pub, which is crowded with workingmen. PATRICK sits at a table with GIL. They both drink orange squash.

PATRICK catches a glimpse through the crowd of RUTH working behind the bar. He keeps a casually curious eye in her direction.

GIL:

Well?

PATRICK is pulled from a slight trance. He turns back to GIL.

PATRICK:

Are you bleedin’ barking? After Albert? (beat) Thievery’s a sucker’s racket^ Gil. We’ll either do porridge or get our nuts kicked in.

(He pauses for a moment.)

I’ll tell you what we should do. 

GIL:

Not with the cat food, again, Patrick, please.

PATRICK:

It’s a good caper. There’s money in it.

GIL:

But you ‘ave t’ sit on a cart all day with a load of rancid meat, (beat) Anyway, you need the tin to get started.

They sit quietly. PATRICK looks briefly at RUTH as she works then turns back to GIL.

PATRICK:

Pass us y’ paper; I want to check the results.

GIL hands PATRICK a newspaper. He looks inside, grimaces then puts the paper down.

GIL:

Come on, Pat. There’s gelt sitting there waiting to be pocketed. We could pay Callow what we owe ‘im.

PATRICK looks up, meeting RUTH’S eyes for a moment.

GIL:

You ain’t goin’ milky on me are yer?

PATRICK turns back to GIL.

PATRICK:

I ain’t milky. But I ain’t cashing some poor old buzzard and risking the pokey for an 'andful o’ coppers. Never again. There’s easier ways to make money.

GIL:

What’s that, betting on the dogs or working for that Park Lane pansy? (beat) What d’you do for Im, anyway?

PATRICK takes a sip of his drink. He gives GIL a blank look.

9.INT. BANK. 1940. DAY.

RUTH stands at the bank’s dark, wooden, counter. Her age, sex and dress make her stand out against the bank’s austere and imposing atmosphere. She

writes out a deposit slip and hands it, along with two pound notes and three ten- shilling notes, to the correct looking CASHIER.

Before she leaves the bank RUTH opens a brown notebook, with ‘Diary 1939/ written on the front in gold leaf lettering. She writes in the amount that she has deposited, adding it to a column of numbers.

10.EXT. HIGH STREET. 1940. DAY,

A large, green American car, a Studebaker, pulls up to the kerb, a few yards along from the bank. The car stands out like a helicopter landing on a street would today. It receives interested but restrained looks from adults; kids, however, walk right up to it and look.

As RUTH leaves the bank, she sees PATRICK, with a tie added to his worn suit, get out of the passenger side of the car. He leans back in through the door and talks to a dapper man, in his thirties, called CHARLIE. RUTH continues to look as she slowly walks past.

PATRICK sees RUTH. He keeps glancing up at her as he listens to CHARLIE talk. He holds a hand up and gives her a half wave. RUTH nods to him and walks on, sheepishly.

CHARLIE sees PATRICK, looking at RUTH. CHARLIE speaks in an educated, middle to upper class, accent.

CHARLIE:

Patrick, is this getting through?

PATRICK turns back to CHARLIE.

PATRICK:

Yeah, yeah...

CHARLIE looks blankly at RUTH, who is walking slowly away.

CHARLIE:

Good. I’ll meet you outside the Herald office at six. And try to be punctual.

PATRICK nods to him.

PATRICK:

Yeah, see y’ Chas.

CHARLIE smiles at PATRICK, who pushes the car door shut. He wiggles his fingers at PATRICK as he pulls away. PATRICK smiles back through the moving window.

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